


Mental health awareness tag - kuroshitsuji style.

by Xbertyx



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Anorexia, Bipolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Bulimia, Depression, Eating Disorders, Multi, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychosis, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-09 10:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4345325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xbertyx/pseuds/Xbertyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bunch of works describing stories of disorders I have delt with/ been diagnosed with.  Most are just drabbels. Any pairings will be listed in chapter notes.<br/>1. Bulimia. Knox no pairing.<br/>2. Anorexia Grell. Start of a grelliam romance.<br/>3. Dermatillomania. Alan /eric as humans not reapers<br/>4. Psychosis. Alan / Eric.<br/>5. Ocd. William/ Grell.<br/>6. Psychosis and anorexia. Hinted Alan/ Eric.<br/>7. Depression and self harm. One sided Ronald/ Grell.<br/>8. Insomnia. Baldroy. No pairing.<br/>9. Dermatillomania 2. Alan/ Eric.<br/>10. Suicidal. Alan / Eric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bulimia

**Author's Note:**

> Knox. Bulimia.

 He didn't know when it had quite started or how he had gone downhill so quickly. All he knew was that under the cheeky mask, he had felt insecure. He was always the geeky looking kid, who had been picked on in school.

 As time went on in the reaper academy and then into the association, Eric slingby had teased him for this chunky glasses and weirdly bright blonde hair. All the girls at human resources were nice to his face but he knew what sort of things they said behind his back.

 'What a nerd.'

 'Haha ye' Nicole, I'd never date that loser.'

 'He's got such weird, chubby cheeks for a man his age.'

 That last comment had sealed his fate. Chubby cheeks? He had never realised before but now it was obvious. He couldn't even go to Grell at that moment in time.

 She would normally just cuddle him and say things like "Aww, no hunny you're gorgeous. You're so cute, those girls are such idiots!"

 That had always been enough to push his nagging worries, over his flaws, back down deep inside him where they belonged. Back then though Grell had been in solitude for her 'Jack The Ripper' murders.

 The timing of it all made him think this was just how fate would have it. His skin had turned pale and blotchy, teeth losing their pearly shine. His clothes hung loosely to his tiny frame and he could barely pick up his beloved lawnmower anymore.

 He ran from the reaper canteen, having just gorged himself on bread and butter, washed down with a litre of milk. His stomach ached and bile rose as his stomach tried to adjust to the food, that was never there for more than ten minutes anymore.

 He sank in front of that porcelain bowl, fingers scraping at the back of his throat. He gagged as the guilt left his body. Face coated in sweat, he steadied himself as he stood and walked over to the bathroom mirror.

 He crinkled his nose in horror at the sick man looking back at him. No one would want him looking like this. No one ever wanted him, not now, not ever. Washing his hands and rinsing his mouth out, his legs shook as he walked back to his office.

 He wanted someone to notice. He was fed up of such a grueling daily cycle, being stuck in this trap for two years now. He wanted help but he needed someone there to notice him first. Notice the pain he was in.

 Grell had probably noticed, eyeing him with concern everytime she saw him. Nevertheless, she never uttered a word about it. Maybe she didn't want him to feel like she was judging him? Knox didn't care about being judged, he just needed a hand to help him escape.

 Before he got to his office, William called out to him. "Reaper Knox, may I have a word with you, regarding an important matter Grell Sutcliff has raised with me?"

 Knox turned around to face his supervisor. "Sure boss, no -." His vision blurred as the world slipped from under his feet. He hit the ground hard from his most recent fainting spell. William ran over to him. Maybe this was the help he'd been waiting for?


	2. Come on, skinny love just last the year.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grell with anorexia purge subtype.

 "What th' 'ell are y' doin' this to yaself for Grell?!" Ronald said, out of anger and concern. Grell turned around slowly to look at him. "Whatever do you mean darling?"

 Ronald rolled his eyes at her. "Y' never eat anymore. Do y' really think this is going to make William love ya'? He's gunna throw a fit when he sees y'. I know reapers can't die of starvation, bu' it's messin' with y' head. Ya' always so cranky. I want my old friend back. I miss 'er."

 She glared at him. "I look fine! Actually, I look a lot better now I'm not as fat. Stop sticking your nose in." With that she stormed out the room and ported back to her flat, her work day having ended.

 She walked, on tired limbs, to in front of her bedroom mirror. Taking her clothes off, she pulled at her skin, no fat underneath it. She went to wrap her hands around the top of her thigh, measuring it to see if it had suddenly became larger. Looking up she grimaced in the mirror. 'I don't look fine, I'm still too fat. Those girls were right. No one will want me.'

 She pulled herself on to her bed, arms wrapped around her knees, to try to stop the awful rumbling in her stomach. Her body trembled from low blood sugar, as tears slipped from her eyes, remembering that fateful day a year ago. The day she started to fall apart.

\----- Flashback

 Grell walked into the break room, bagel in hand. "Oh I would stay away from carbs if I were you." One female reaper said."Ye', you could use with losing a few pounds if you ever want to that supervisor of yours to notice you. You're getting fat." Said another.

 Grell huffed at them, throwing the bagel in the bin and rushing off. Tears started to prick at her eyes as she rushed to the bathroom. Eyeing herself in the mirror, she cringed. Maybe she was fat? Maybe her waist didn't go in as much as she wanted, not because she was biologically male but because she was just too flabby?

 She started to cut out junk food and take her tea black. She exercised at night after labor intensive days. Eventually her tiny meals turned into one bowl of cereal a day and finally to no food at all. The weight dropped off her and she started to feel happier. Maybe William could love her now? She didn't realise the girls in the break room were just jealous. Unlike Grell, they noticed the love in William's eyes when he looked at her. The way he stared after her as she swayed away.

 She started to pop laxatives like they were sweets. Her stomach hurt all the time but she was losing weight faster and it made her happy. Her ribs started to protrude under her skin. Fingers turned boney, hip bones stuck out. Her arms and legs turned to just bone with thin skin stretched over them.

 Finally her vision started to blur and she felt sick and cold all the time. Her hair, once so lovely, turned thin and damaged. Her nails became brittle and her skin paled. Her eyes turned sunken, black circles from exhaustion appearing. High cheek bones showed as her face turned gaunt. She was fed up of the grueling days but she couldn't stop even if she wanted to. She was addicted to the scale going down and she still felt too fat.

End flashback.

 Ronald had been asked to go to William's office by the the supervisor's receptionist. "Reaper Knox, I have something to ask you."

 "Ye' boss, what can i do for ya'?"

 William turned around on his chair to face the blonde man. "Is Sutcliff ok? I haven't seen her around and people have told me she has been acting oddly but no one would elaborate."

"No sir, she's not."

 William eyed him. "What is the issue with her?"

 Ronald sighed sadly. "I don't thin' she'd like me to tell y' but you'll realise as soon as y' see 'er. Jus' please, don't freak out when you do."

 "Very well. Where will she be located this afternoon?"

 Ronald rubbed the back of his head. "Probably in the break room wi' me at about three today."

 "Thank you Knox. You're dismissed."

 Knox looked over the table at Grell. She looked so pale and was shaking. Her eyes were glassy and he couldn't tell if it was from unshed tears or exhaustion. "Babe are y' alright?"

 She smiled at him sadly. "Yes, just a little tired, my dear." William walked into the break room and spotted the back of Grell's head, standing out brightly against everyone else's.

 He walked up behind her. "Sutcliff, I need you in my office right away." He gasped when she turned to stand up and look at him. Her legs were shaking and she looked so ill and pasty.

 William knew exactly what was going on as soon as he saw her. Anger and worry rose inside his heart. "What is the meaning of this!?"

 Grell just eyed him, confused. "Of what my darling?"

 "Of doing this to yourself. You look awful Su- Grell." Tears started to fall and she looked away. "I know...I'm a hideous pig...I didn't want you to see me again being this fat."

 William cupped her chin with his fingers to make her look back up at him. "You are far from fat, Grell. You're deathly thin. Why are you putting yourself through this?"

 "Because you'll never lo...love me. No one will. I'm ugly and g...grotesque." Her legs bucked and William pulled her against his chest to steady her, hugging her tightly. "I do love you."

 She started to sob into his chest, hands gripping his shirt. "I don't want this. I want to stop...but I can't...I...don't know how. I'm so tired of it all."

 William rubbed her back soothingly, chin resting on the top of her head. "It's ok, please don't cry. Me and Ronald will get you help. We'll both help you through this ordeal. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watching death note


	3. Dermatillomania.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a problem that I have which drives me to distraction. I can never stop picking at myself and end up covered in awful scabs :/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alan and Eric are humans for this fic, because other wise Alan would heal before eric got home probably.

 Dermatillomania: An impulse control disorder characterized by the repeated urge to pick at one's own skin, often to the extent that damage is caused.

 Alan was absentmindedly flicking through a magazine on the kitchen table. He was excited, as Eric would be back from his business trip today and any minute now he would walk through the door.

 Finding a page that seemed like an interesting read, Alan raised his hand and slipped it under his shirt, fingers running over the smooth skin. His fingers brushed over a small bump on his skins surface. Immediately his nails dug into the area around the bump, raking at the skin until he had scratched the annoying imperfection away.Still reading the magazine, his hand began to roam without him even realising.

 He had been doing such things since he was an adolescent, when he was nervous or upset.He'd never been around children his own age when he was an infant, constantly battling illnesses and then being treated for lung cancer. When he finally did go to school, he had a hard time talking to other children and as such, never made any friends.

 As he grew into high school, he was a target for bullies and was constantly being teased. Instead of retaliating, he would scratch and pick at his skin out on anger. It was a habit he was never able to leave behind. A habit that had grew into a serious problem.

\----

Eric walked into the house about ten minutes after Alan had begun to read and as soon as he entered the kitchen, he froze. "Oh Alan, babe, not agen'." Alan eyed him confused. "You've been scratchin' away at ya'self agen'." You really should see someone about this before you end up gettin' a really bad infection."

 Alan looked down at himself, his confusion turning to horror. He had picked at himself from his shoulder blade all the way down his chest and then onto his arm. Angry swollen skin and bubbles of blood ran all over those areas. He could also feel his face stinging. He had obviously scratched away there too. His white shirt was stained with tiny dots of blood.

 "Oh Eric, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do it again. I didn't even realise." Eric walked over and knelt down at the side of Alan's chair. He pulled the chair around so Alan was facing him and pulled him into a hug. "Come wi' me to the bathroom. I need to get those wounds cleaned up." He pulled Alan up off his chair and into the bathroom, intent on cleaning him up and trying to once again coax him into getting the help he so badly needed.


	4. Psychosis.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have been wanting to do this for like ever. When my Psychosis comes into play, it's a real pain in the ass.

 “Kill them all.”

 “Shut up!” Eric screamed, fingers gripping his hair as he slid down the wall in the corner of the bedroom. He wished they would just go away. He’d been seeing figures and hearing the voices of these three people since he was first reborn as a reaper. They had started off as friendly but with each passing year, they became more aggressive, more violent. They plagued him night and day, always saying the same things.

 “Kill them all. You know you want to.” Robert stated, appearing in front of him. His signature evil smirk was in place, his short brown hair a mess. Blood stained his ripped clothes. He knelt down in front of Eric. “Just do it.”

 “No! I can’t! I won’t!”

 “But they are all talking about you, my dear. They are all plotting your demise, right as we speak.” Melisa said, appearing in front of the window of the room, her curly blonde hair illuminated by sunlight. “They all want you six feet under.”

 “No they don’t. You’re lying!” Eric shouted at her.

 “She isn’t. They indeed want you dead.” Robert said, face leaning in dangerously close to the reaper’s. “Just kill them. Once you’ve killed your first, the rest will be so easy. You’ll be hooked on the thrill of the chase. Seeing such blood will be addicting.”

 Eric shook his head. “I will not!”

 A sharp manic laugher echoed through the room, as a crazed looking Henry materialized at Eric’s side, also sitting against the wall. “Yes … why not … hahahahhaha. Why the fuck not!?” He laughed again, a laugh that pierced Eric’s ears whenever he heard it. A laugh that he thought would surely drive him insane one day.

 He scowled at Henry. “Because Alan would never forgive me. Killin’ people not on the to die list is a horrible sin to commit.”

 “Then just kill him first.” Robert stated, as if it were the simplest task in existence.

 Eric gritted his teeth. “How dare you say that! Get away from me!”

 At that moment, the door to the bedroom opened and Henry and Robert stood up, moving next to Melisa in front of the window. Alan stepped into the room and on seeing Eric cradled in the corner of the room, he spoke softly. “Eric … have you been hearing those voices again? You really need to see the doctor. This … it’s getting out of hand.”

 “I know that!” Eric snapped at him, as he stood up. He walked closer to Alan and realised his eyes were red and puffy. “Alan … why have you been cryin’? What’s wrong babe?”

 “No … it’s nothing important.”

Eric pulled him into a hug. “Please just tell me. If it’s upsetting you, I wanna’ know about it.”

 “But it’ll upset you too.” Alan whispered, beginning to cry again.

 Eric pulled back from the hug to look at his partner. “I don’t care. Just please tell me.”

 “I …” Alan stammered. “I have the thorns, Eric. I … I’m dying.”

 Eric just stood there, frozen in shock. A manic laugh once against pierced the air. “Oh … how fucking tragic! Hahahaha! You do know the cure right, Eric my boy? Hahaha, one thousand human souls. Hahaha.

 The two other voices joined Henry’s, merging together in a sickening slur. “You must kill them all. Kill them all, Eric. Every last one of them.”


	5. Compulsions: Driven by fear, broken by love.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have also been wanting to do this for like three weeks. Was originally just going to be a drabble but it became the longest piece in the series. Also my first time writing in present tense. Hope it was okay. It does change to past for the middle bit. 
> 
> William's thought at in italics.

_It’s still not clean enough. There are still too many germs here, far too many._ William sprays his desk with bleach for the third time in a row, before wiping it with a cloth again. _I can’t possibly do my work with all these pathogens contaminating my work space._ After cleaning it for a fourth time, he places a disposable cloth on his seat and sits down, pulling a wad of paperwork from his drawer. He clicks his pen several times. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight._ Ritual completed, he begins his first report for the day.

\----

 William had no idea how his obsessions had grown so out of control. He had always been concerned with order, ever since graduating the academy. He’d scrub his skin until it bled, once he returned home from any assignment, no matter if he was covered in blood or not.

 It had only gotten worse, when he had been promoted to supervisor in collections. Having time in his own office just made him think more of the germs that surrounded him. He constantly felt too dirty. As his obsession began to grow, it materialized into something greater than just a pre-occupation with cleanliness. He began to stack his paperwork into neat little piles, based on topics, only to reorganise them again and again, from a-z, then to report length and back to topics once more.

 Little habits and rituals began to appear, from checking his door was locked eight times to clicking his pen eight times between each report he completed. Adjusting his glasses eight times at the end of each report. The whole ordeal exhausted him, having to go home and clean his house from top to bottom countless times, until tiredness overtook him and he fell to sleep in the early hours of the morning.

 He didn’t enjoy having to do such things, not at all. In fact he did them out of fear, thinking something bad would happen to the people he cared about if he didn’t follow his set rules exactly. This fear was only amplified by the deaths of Alan and Eric. As ridiculous a notion as he knew it was, he blamed himself, thinking maybe he had slipped up somewhere in his daily practices. It didn’t matter how many times the doctor had told him that the thorns of death was something supernatural, that reapers were immune to disease and pathogens, it did nothing to ease his obsessions. It also didn’t matter how many different drugs the doctor had prescribed for him, they gave him not an ounce of relief from his disorder.

 That was what the doctor had eventually diagnosed him with. Obsessive compulsive disorder. A disorder of the brain and behaviours, which causes extreme anxiety in those affected. It involves both obsessions and compulsions, which take up a lot of time and get in the way of a person’s important activities.

 It certainly had gotten in the way, impacting every aspect of William’s life. He could no longer even use the restroom at work, having to port to his own home whenever he needed the toilet. He’d soon taken to not drinking a drop of anything at work to compensate. The coffee cups used were far too dirty anyway.

 His relations at work also began to suffer. He could no longer bear to be around other people, too frightened of any microbe they might be carrying. It hurt him, wishing he could just break out of the grip of this disorder and go back to living happily. Wishing he could just have a normal life, without the constant anxiety this illness gave him. More than anything, he wanted to be able to have a relationship with the woman he’d always secretly adored. He knew for a fact that she loved him, she’d told him enough times over the two centuries they had known each other. He longed to one day be able to hold her and kiss her, instead of moving away from her every time she came too close. Instead of getting irate whenever she came into his office, heals scuffing his recently polished floor and when she would just generally mess up the place.

 She’d just laugh it off when he would shout at her but he could see it hurt her. It wasn’t a simple case of getting mad at her for messing up on assignments or being too clingy anymore, it was a mere issue of her being present. He was sure that she felt like she was a burden to him, like he hated the sight of her and that made him feel awful inside. It wasn’t true at all, he loved her more than she would ever know. It was his fault and his own illness that was the barrier between them. He wanted nothing more than to push those silly fears to the back of his mind and silly he knew they were and just be with her. Have contact with her in a normal manner and be able to show he loved her. He longed for the day when he would finally crack. When he would get mad enough with this disorder and all it had taken from him, to be able to break through it, to be able to start recovering. He needed a reason to get better and deep down he knew she was the strongest reason he would ever find. The only person he would ever love enough to try to break out of these awful, confining walls he had built around himself.

\---

 _Six, seven, eight._ William’s office door is shoved open and the fiery redhead he loves so much comes barging into his office, heels clicking as she strides up to his desk. _Five, six, seven. No! Take another step woman, it’s uneven. What are you thinking?_ William stands up from his desk, moving away from her. _Stay away from me. I don’t want any of your germs._

 “Sutcliff, what are you doing in my office once again? I have told you countless times I wish for you not to come barging in here.”

 A flicker of sadness crosses her features, before her signature predatory smile comes back into place. “When are you going to stop playing hard to get, Will?" She moves close to him again, standing a mere inch in front of him. _Get away from me!_ “It’s ever so bothersome. Your coldness tears at my heart.”

 _I know that. You … you just do not understand._ “I’m sorry if my words upset you but would you please just leave.”

 “No. I don’t want to. Not with such a handsome man around.” She grabs him by the collar and he gulps.

 _No. Please don’t touch me. Your hands are probably filthy._ “Sutcliff.” He stammers. “Please … just leave.”

 Her smile widens. “Not a chance, my darling. If speaking of my love for you has no effect, well I shall just have to show you.” She pulls him closer, pressing her lips to his harshly, pushing her tongue into his mouth.

 _No. no. This can’t be happening. Too many germs. Disgusting!_ Panic rises inside of him. He shoves her back, before his fist collides with her cheek. She looks at him in shock, eyes brimming with tears. “How … could you?” she whispers, before turning and fleeing his office.

 _What have I done? Grell, I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry._ He runs out after her, heart beating fast in his chest. This is his chance, maybe the only chance he will ever have. A chance to let his love for her outweigh the burden of this disorder. Maybe he has already ruined it? No, he can’t let this one thread of hope be cut from him. He has to at least try.

 “Grell … wait!” he calls to her. She turns around, tears now falling from her eyes. He catches up to her. “I didn’t mean to do that. I’m so sorry. You just startled me.” _Just push those worries aside, you need to do this. You love her, just do it._ He pulls her into another kiss, arms wrapping around her waist to bring her closer to him. He feels the anxiety begin to rise again but this is nice. It’s a nice feeling to finally be so close to her and in that moment he feels stronger than ever. For the first time since his disorder began, he begins to believe that he can find a way out. He finally has a reason to try to recover and that reason is her.


	6. The voices in my head, monsters under my bed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan and Eric. Psychosis and anorexia. Actual conversations I've had with my hallucinations. Names are all the same.
> 
> Damn, Emma is gunna' be p**sed at me for writing this.

 Alan pressed his pen to the diary his psychologist had given him.

 'August 22nd, 2015.' Nothing to note so far for today. I managed breakfast with Eric this morning. No voices have been heard and no images seen.'

 Just then, a voice appeared. "You shouldn't write about us. We aren't as bad as you make us out to be." Emma stated.

 Alan turned to look at the thin, pale, black haired teenager. "It's just you who is mean. I have no issue with Paige or Veronica."

 "Yes but she is nice to everyone. You always hurt her feelings, you are so cruel. Paige is always too kind to you too and you just take advantage of that fact. No wonder she hung herself."

 Alan glared at her. "It has nothing to do with you."

 "It does. Just like the fact that you are a failure. You haven't lost any weight in months. In fact I think you've gotten fatter."

 "It's not good for me to starve myself. I'll just end up dead from it, like you."

 "Well at least I could fit into my coffin. If you die, you won't be able to."

 "I'm not going to die! Eric has been helping me to eat. He tells me that not eating is harming my health."

 "Why are you listening to that hideous oaf?! He doesn't know what he's talking about."

 "Because I love him and I know he's right."

 "Well Veronica is in love with you and you know it. But you always push the poor girl away. She's the only one of us still alive and you're going to make her pass from a broken heart at this rate."

 Alan's anger began to rise. "I don't want her! It's not my fault that she fell for me."

 She glared at him. "You're such a moron. Just go kill yourself already and do us all a favour." With that she disappeared.

 Alan turned back to his diary. 'Correction. Emma has just appeared, ranting at me again and being her usual demeaning self. No visits yet from Paige or Veronica. I wish they would just leave me alone. They are driving me to insanity. I don't think I can handle much more of this misery.'


	7. I hide it so well.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dance4thedead's idea with who to put as the character. Depression/ self harm.

 Ronald sat in his office. He wasn't doing paperwork. His mind was too focused on other matters for that:

 I wish I could just be happy, like everyone else. Be normal like the rest of you. I can't. I've tried so many times and I just can't cheer up.

 No one would ever guess, with how I pretend to be so joyful. So carefree. It's just an act. A mask I've been fixing in place since my human life. I thought becoming a reaper would be a fresh start but I'm exactly the same. I crack lame jokes and act cheeky but really, I'm deeply depressed.

 I've never been diagnosed with depression. I've never tried to get help. I'd just be judged for it. For being sad over nothing. That's what it is though. After researching online and finding that my symptoms fit that diagnosis, I came to that conclusion.

 I can't believe I've been like this for over one hundred years and no one has noticed. I don't even know if I want them to. Maybe it would be nice if someone cared. But no one does. I'm not worth enough for that.

 Even the people I have slept with don't care. They never saw the scars and cuts up my arms, because we never bothered to undress. Just pull my pants down and slide your underwear off. Why waste time with anything else? We didn't love each other. It was just a way for me to ease my pain.

 I'm not even good enough for the person I do love. Sure, we are friends but you would never love me. I'm not good enough for you, Grell. I never will be.

 I thought committing suicide would stop the pain. That failed, so then I thought being reborn would be a clean slate and I'd be able to start over; happier and better. I've realised that I will never change.

 I still want to kill myself but it wouldn't do anything. I'd just end up back at the reaper academy and I can't be bothered to go through this shitty life for a third time. Why God makes depressed people live again, I'll never know. It's cruelly ironic.

 At that moment, Ronald was tugged from his inner misery as the door opened and Grell entered. "Morning darling! How are you today?"

 Ronald grinned. "Brilliant as ever, babe."


	8. I can't get no sleep.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics taken from faithless - insomnia because dad always used to love blasting that track. 
> 
> Baldroy

I can't get no sleep

I can't get no sleep

I need to sleep, although I get no sleep

I need to sleep, although I get no sleep

\--

I never can. The nightmares put a stop to even wanting to sleep. Dreams where I was back on the battle field. Where all my comrades died. It all seemed so real. Now I don't sleep, I can't. I'm scared away from such a luxury.

 The nights drag on endlessly, my mind filled with awful memories. Filled with worries for the day to come. Will I be able to cook dinner on time? Will I burn it again? Such stupid thoughts; things that don't really matter. I won't die if my meal turns out charred but still it keeps me awake at night. My mind and all its silliness; it keeps me from rest.

 I need rest. I really do. And they wonder why I'm so concerned with getting to eat the cakes Phantomhive leaves uneaten without a second thought. I need sugar, dammit! Something to give me the energy that my body is so desperately lacking. I honestly feel like a zombie for 365 days a year.

 They wonder why I smoke so much. It's the only way to ease my stress and stop me from snapping at them from my exhaustion. I just want want to sleep. But I can't. I fear I will never be able to. That the stress on my body will lead me to an early grave.

\---

I can't get no sleep

I can't get no sleep

I need to sleep, although I get no sleep

I need to sleep, although I get no sleep


	9. Dermatillomania - progression.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could just stop. :( seriously upset right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alan and Eric as humans.

 How did things get so bad? Hell if Alan knew and Eric hadn't a clue himself. His issue had turned from a nagging one to one of pure destruction.

 Where Alan would pick out of nervousness, he now did it whenever he had the chance. Sometimes out of boredom. Sometimes without even realising.

 Small ingrown hairs would be scratched and turn into pimples, which would be poked and picked at until they became scabs. The scabs would be scraped off and squeezed at until ugly yellow liquid seeped from under the surface. Finally, there would become raised, ugly scars and Alan wouldn't even be able to remember what it was to begin with. Was it a patch of dry skin? A spot or an ingrown hair? A white head or blackhead?

 And that's if it ever did heal. Recently, the broken skin was never left alone. Try as it might, it couldn't repair fast enough, before nails were dug into that spot again. Blood and pus and clear liquid seeping from skin that begged to be given a chance to recover.

 Alan's skin was constantly inflamed and red. Sore too. On his knees, chest, shoulders, face and the sections of back he could reach. That didn't stop him though, it was a habit that he couldn't break. Even when Eric would shout at him for picking at places that were visible, he'd just move to a place Eric's eyes weren't focused on. His stomach or ankles were the most popular areas. What about catching an infection? That thought scared Eric the most.

 Not that Alan liked doing this. No, he wished and prayed and begged that one day he could stop. And why? Because he felt hideous. His skin was nothing but scabs and scars and skin ripped to shreds. Where once he wore shorts and t-shirts, he now hid himself under jeans and long jumpers.

 He'd cry when he looked in the mirror. Such a vile looking human, how could anyone want him? So ugly that he'd sob and scream on a daily basis. Eric would hold him close and try to sooth him but it did no good. Alan felt as broken as the surface of his body. He felt too ugly to even go and see a doctor. And so, the cycle continued. Scratch, cry, pick, sob, bleed, dig, weep, whimper in pain and pick some more. Over and over and over again. Maybe, just maybe, one day he'd lose his mind.


	10. A fight tonight, between body and mind.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eating disorders, depression, skin picking, self harm, suicide attempt. Alan/ Eric.
> 
> Human au.

 Sometimes I think that you hate me. Keeping me trapped here like this. On this earth that I hate so much, with evil people around every corner. I don't understand, body, why you have not failed yet? No, you have failed. Failed me and failed to fulfill my wishes.

 I can't fathom how you still work. Not after I have starved you and purged you of all vital nutrients. After I've cut you so deep and refused you stitches. After I've picked at the scabs and scars, until the wounds have reopened and become infected. After I've poisoned you with various pills. How do you do it, body? How do you still function? When I myself, as a person, cannot function.

 It's like my brain and body are at war. Maybe heart and body? With feelings and thoughts wishing to die and flesh and organs that beg for life.

 Eric would be so upset, if he realised I felt like this. See, body, I hide my feelings well from him now. Though I know that he's grateful to you. That you've kept me alive for so long. Kept me safe (safeish) in his arms for almost a decade.

 But you see, body, I am not thankful. I hate you. I wish you would crumble, like my fragile mind did all those years ago. I beg now, pray and weep for you to listen. When I go through with my plan tonight, let me go. Let me find the happiness I never could. Happiness I will never find, not until you cut your binds from me and let me escape. Escape to somewhere where I may finally find my peace.


End file.
